


some (mostly skraelroc) classic drabbles

by tascheter



Series: crow's short fics [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, Grad Student AU, Implied OC death, Missing Scenes, Origin Story, Other, apprentice douxie au, unrequited crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tascheter/pseuds/tascheter
Summary: eleven prompts, solicited from friends, all (more or less) 100 words apiece.
Relationships: Bellroc/Skrael (Tales of Arcadia)
Series: crow's short fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123022
Comments: 22
Kudos: 4





	1. what's under those bandages...?

**Author's Note:**

> once upon a time, "drabble" meant "exactly 100 words." [/old man voice] while i've gotten used to the shift in meaning, i found myself yearning recently for the classic format; after two friends very kindly obliged me with prompts, these are the result. (all things considered, i'm fairly fond of them.) i'll leave it up to these friends whether or not they de-anon themselves, but any flaws that remain are purely my own. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (early on...)

"They don't hurt. I mean—not _anymore_." They laugh, suddenly, a bright, nervous sound. "You can touch them, if you want."

Skrael...isn't sure what to say, exactly. He'd only been curious, never having seen his friend without those wraps. He'd never thought they held something like this: faded, silver-pink scars, all dusted with soft, dry ash.

"Are you sure?" He looks at their arms, then back up to them. "I— _Bellroc_ , I—"

"I can't...feel much," they warn. Bracing themself, almost. His heart trips at the thought. Then: they grin, and offer him their hand. "But your hands are _really_ cold."


	2. coming home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _who says you can't go home?_

They seem—distant, at first. Which is understandable, she thinks. Mostly? Ren is just happy they're alive. The whole town had seen the mountain burning; she'd spent three whole nights, watching it from the roof.

She hadn't let herself think of fear, at the time. Even when she spots them, staggering back through the fields—she tries to think of the relief, more than anything else. On _amma, it's me_. On the feel of them in her arms. (On how her heart breaks, to see those burns.) On how _frightened_ they'd looked.

But, later—back in their home—when their hands start _glowing—_


	3. ancient flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> great flames from little sparks

They watch the motions carefully as their father works the bow drill before them. ( _They must only be small, in this memory_.) Beril's hands are fast, and sure, but their own aren't clever enough to follow, yet; they've spent most of the lesson biting their tongue in concentration.

"Quick, steady movements. This kindling is good—it'll do half your work for you."

His voice is so warm, over their shoulder. His arms are so safe, so close.

"After all," he explains. "The fire wants to come and meet us. All it asks is patience, Bellroc. And _that's_ the real trick—"


	4. local religion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> take me to church [ca. 6000 BCE remix]

They flick their gaze back down, heat burning in their cheeks. Bad enough that Erit had noticed them staring; worse that they can't get the thought out of their head.

"You're _sure_ you know the way?"

"I—yes."

It's nothing. Really. Erit's clever, sure. Training to be a priest (hence their hiking with him all the way out here). Almost as fast as them in a sprint, despite their height, with a grin like obsidian.

But when his fingers brushed theirs, earlier—just handing them a bundle of herbs and cloth—they're fairly sure they've never felt so graceless.

So...it'll stay _nothing_.

It will. It's fine.


	5. a spell gone wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this has happened more than once (and it will happen again)

Skrael is laughing at them. Actually laughing at them, which is the worst part of this.

"I—no. Truly." He snorts. "Bellroc, _again_?

They heave a mighty sigh, irritably flicking their new, awful wings. It hadn't been on purpose. The magic in the skull is...unpredictable, even now, even for as careful with it as they always try to be.

He must notice how pensive they've gone, though, and glides over to lay a hand on the smooth, dry bone of their forehead.

"Well, fine." Another soft laugh. "Let's see if we can't get you some thumbs, in the meantime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i did sit down and hash out an actual design for belldragon, and _yes_ , its most important feature _is_ their [heart-shaped pawpads](https://dreamcrow.tumblr.com/post/639693470837112833/thinkin-aboutbelldragon)


	6. lightning strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> firebender rules, bay bee!!

They readjust their footing, as the wind howls. Storms have always left them feeling something awestruck and bone-deep, the same as the first time they saw the sea. They've never tried this, before, but—they've been curious, for a while. Watching.

Observing.

 _This'll be tricky_. Thunder booms, just over their shoulder, but they don't flinch. Eyes up, tracking the clouds. _Pure fire, furious and invincible. Quick as—well_...

Their grip tightens around the staff, the iron warm and alive in their hand.

_But I'm fast, too._

And when the thunder roars again, followed by a whip-crack of heat and ozone and _light—_


	7. texts from the chem library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finals week is tough on everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (from a...possibly forthcoming [grad school au](https://dreamcrow.tumblr.com/post/631986461127950337/i-give-you-when-the-fire-burns-cold)?)

» hey hey bells

» don't wake up for this, but

» i'm in bcs again (grading!!! shh). didn't wanna snapchat bc leefs'll see me n yell abt timezones again

» but there's a cube full of. children. right across from my carrel, and

 _A few minutes later: a faint audio clip, distantly recorded. Several voices overlap. But the gist of the conversation is clear: "Chemical Thermodynamics might be a bitch but we've got the_ coolest _TA," "the first time I've ever understood shit in this department," "after seeing those pins? On the_ first _day of class? I'd fucking_ die _for them—"_

» ...anyway. thinkin of u

» be home soon.

» 💙


	8. rubedo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final step of the great work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (apprentice!douxie au)

Bellroc considers, beside the athanor. "The question is...not unworthy," they admit. "Though—it is possible you may know it under a different name."

Douxie groans. " _Why is alchemy this hard_."

"It's not _meant_ to be easy—"

The boy grumbles.

"Easy to say when you invented half of it."

(They don't preen. _Definitely_ not.)

"But—look." He points to an annotation on the page. "I'm almost sure this means _'reddening_.' Just like—well."

He darts a quick, unsubtle look at their hair.

"...Just so." They flash a small, secret smile, before reschooling their expression into something serious and sharp. "Now. What might that tell us?"


	9. defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (what if you never knew what a familiar was?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for: injury, implied (intelligent? sentient? offscreen?) animal death

It doesn't feel like a victory, after. Not after that fight; not with their hands still steaming with slick, oily dragon's blood.

She's dying, obviously. They'd try to make it quick—a last, only kindness—but they're flat on their back, with two broken ribs, a snapped collarbone, and no idea where their staff has got to. They've never been hurt this bad, since— _after_. Can they even die?

"Stupid thing." Her voice rasps, over the rain. "Of course we can. We're just like them."

 _I was wrong. I didn't know_. _I thought you were going to kill me._

They bite their tongue, and swallow the excuses, bitter as gall.


	10. riverside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all that free time to spend on yearning, before the end of the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for a friend's specific hc: "the first time bellroc sees skrael's braids?"

They aren't expecting it, is the thing. They've seen him before, after all, even in the heat; always dignified, always resolute. And—sure, they _are_ staring. Technically.

"Something wrong?"

Bellroc blinks, suddenly and painfully self-conscious. They're not usually so...distractible. All those perfect little braids, glinting like obsidian in the water's dappled, flashing light—

They're aware, distantly, that their face has gone _very_ hot.

(Like a child. Like a _fool_.)

"I—it's nothing." Skrael is their _friend_. The best, oldest one they've had. They're not about to endanger that over something so stupid as wondering— _aren't they warm? aren't they_ heavy _?_ "Only...idle daydreams."


	11. annunciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> glad tidings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. [an art](https://dreamcrow.tumblr.com/post/641146799297642496/a-while-ago-i-solicited-some-classic100-word).

Vanlaere has heard a lot of stories, in all their time topside. Seen a lot of the truth behind those stories, too. And they're not _superstitious_ , but—

They lean forward into the foliage, close as they dare. The other two figures they've never heard of, but—even if they don't look anything like the pictures, they'd recognize the Virukh. The _confidence_ in their walk; that cloak—and those _eyes_!

And if they're _here_ , on the eve of Gunmar's great battle—

Vanlaere swallows. Only children believe in luck. The Lady's or otherwise.

But if they breathe a little easier, if they grip their blade a little more surely—

( _Surely the Virukh doesn't mind flattery...?_ )

**Author's Note:**

> well! 1100(ish) words later... have i actually learned much about concision and precision? unsure. but did i cram a truly astronomical amount of yearning and self-indulgent headcanons into eleven very, very small spaces? **ye** :')


End file.
